


Always torn in two

by tari_roo



Series: The Art of Steve Rogers [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Not A Fix-It, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 21:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tari_roo/pseuds/tari_roo
Summary: Part 3 of the 'Art of Steve Rogers' series. A mini multi-chap fic set post Endgame (so beware of spoilers) exploring the aftermath of the final battle through the medium of Steve's art. “Your time may come. Do not be too sad, Sam. You cannot be always torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do.” JRR Tolkien





	Always torn in two

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains spoilers for Endgame. No serious, it will spoil pretty much everything so if you haven’t seen it yet and want to remain unspoiled, just mark this one for ‘later’ and stop right now

*mcu*marvel*mcu*marvel*mcu*

Sam stared at the carefully wrapped package in his hands, soft brown paper tied with string – both paper and string felt old, soft, well-used. “Are you sure that this is a good idea?” he muttered, glaring a little at Barnes who was slouching next to him, half- but not quite leaning against the car. Bucky shrugged, not in indifference or doubt but more in that disconcerting eastern European way that spoke of unconcern, of a trust in their friend. “Steve wanted her to have it.” Like that was enough, more than enough reason to proceed.

In a way it was, and Sam had no doubt in Cap’s motives but, still. “Then why in the hell isn’t he here? Giving it to her…” Wilson trailed off at Bucky’s silent ‘do I actually have to say this, again?’ look that was approaching a life of its own. “She’s a little kid! She won’t care that he’s old or unfamiliar or…” Sam trailed off again, hearing the whine in his voice and winced as Bucky smirked and said, “Then why are you afraid of her?”

He resisted the urge to both punch Barnes in the arm and flatly deny the accusation. Rather than dignify the dig with a response, Sam instead sighed and straightened. “Fine, fine. Let’s do this.”

Coming back from the dead was easy compared to this. Hell, flying into the faces of alien monsters was a cake-walk compared to the long, all-too-short walk from car to the front door of the Potts-Stark cabin-ala-house. Had it only been a few days since the memorial? Since Cap’s disappearance of five seconds and 70 years? The house still radiated subdued grief, etched into the very timbers of its walls and floors, the spaces where Tony had carved out of a life, a slice of heaven, which now groaned in the silence of his absence.

Footfalls heavy on the path, Sam flicked his eyes up at movement at the door, and smiled a sad flicker of understanding as Happy’s hulking silhouette filled the door-frame. Bucky dropped back, but Sam hissed under his breath, “Don’t you dare,” and his all-too-silent friend sighed but closed the distance he’d created.

Happy opened the screen door as they climbed the steps, his expression welcoming but wary, no doubt concerned that they were heralds of new trouble, rather than just visiting. Sam smiled back, hoping he conveyed that their visit was purely that… a visit. He’d rather not think about it as fulfilling the final request of a friend, but there was no denying that it was… sort of.

“Boys,” Happy greeted them, the door open but he hadn’t moved to let them in. Sam nodded, “Happy, good to see you.” Behind him, Bucky nodded, a picture of ‘at ease’ and unconcern, but Sam could tell he was a little nervous. Common-place, ordinary life still freaked him out. Rather than dance around the topic, Sam dove in, trusting in directness, and said, “Cap asked me, us, to give this to Morgan.” He held out the parcel, evidence of their mission and Happy’s face softened, eyes misting a little. “Oh, I .. I ah, heard that he…” Happy coughed a little and then stepped aside, letting them in. “Come on in. She’s upstairs somewhere with Pepper. I’ll.. have a seat in the den.”

Sam stood in the doorway, frozen with a sense of intrusion, as Happy walked away and it wasn’t until Bucky not-too-gently prodded his side and hissed, “Stop stalling, Bird-man.” Scowling and making sure Barnes saw it, Sam stepped inside, feeling like the worst sort of invader – the clumping idiot who intruded on a grieving family. Hell, he was just fine talking to the family of fallen soldiers and military personnel, so why did this feel so … wrong? So intrusive.

Together they walked through the house to the den, unable to stop glancing at the evidence of Tony’s life, his presence palpable in the air and atmosphere. An odd tool-set looking far too futuristic for anyone else but Stark. His father’s picture on the shelf. A tasteful candid on the fridge from his and Pepper’s wedding. A half-finished Stark-tower model built from juice-pop sticks.

Sam sat on the couch in the den and immediately stood up again, not wanting, unable to feel comfortable in this space. The counsellor in him recognised the signs of guilt, misplaced guilt sure, but guilt none-the-less no matter how irrational. Barnes leant against the fireplace, back to the wall, no-doubt even more uncomfortable in the home of the man he had very personally injured years ago. Barnes’ guilt was misplaced too, not in the same way Sam’s was, but was just as real. No doubt, Bucky was forcing himself to be here as some sort of penance. He had never reconciled with Stark, not that they had had a relationship to fix, but the opportunity to express remorse, seek forgiveness was lost.

The house was not silent. Not with the murmur of voices upstairs, the tread of footsteps, the buzz of a phone, inaudible music playing somewhere. This home, however rocked it was, was not broken. Sam fought the urge to fidget, and drew in a deep breath as footsteps down the stairs announced the arrival of their hosts. Pepper appeared first, her smile small but genuine, even for Bucky. “Sam, Bucky, how nice.” Her hug was tight, but brief and Sam noted how Bucky stiffened at the gesture, but returned it. Morgan was hanging back, clearly hesitant, her little face peering down at them from the stop of the stairs. “Come on, honey. They have a present for you, from Captain Rogers.”

“Captain America?” Morgan lisped a little as she continued to stare at them, unmoving. Happy’s feet were visible next to her and there was no encouragement from him to get her to move. Pepper nodded, “Yes. They knew your Daddy too.”

This information Morgan accepted with a blink but she asked instead, “Where is he?” For half a second, Sam freaked out, thinking she was asking where Tony was, but Pepper smiled and waved her down, “I’m sure Sam and Bucky will explain, come on sweetie.” Sam’s mind went blank in panic and he met Bucky’s amused gaze in terror. What in the hell? Clearly deciding the mystery and potential present were enough motivation to brave two strangers, Morgan descended the rest of the stairs and joined her mother, small hand slipping into hers as they moved to the couch. She looked up at Sam expectantly, and Sam felt his face flush. He smiled back nervously and almost collapsed into the armchair at his legs. He could feel Barnes’ eyes on the back of his head, but he refused to cave and ask for help. Instead, he told himself to stop being an idiot and just be upfront with the smallest and youngest Stark, who was staring at him and the package in his hands.

"Hey, Morgan. Cap asked me to give this to you. He, he was needed somewhere else, ah, back home," Sam blurted out, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. It was true… mostly, and Pepper did not shoot him a burning look for a half-lie, so that was ok.

Morgan nodded solemnly as she climbed onto the couch and sat next to her mom, pressed against her side. Her dark hair fell into her face and she pushed it back as she said, "Kay. What is it?" Sam handed the package to Pepper who popped it onto her daughter's lap. "Open it, and see for yourself, sweetie."

Perhaps because it was brown paper and therefor unusual, but Morgan did not tear the wrapping open, but poked and peeled and eventually removed the paper enough to pull out the bound book inside. The cover was thick cardboard and the binding rings looked old, old-fashioned but the smile on her face as she saw the cover was bright and fresh. A little cartoon Iron Man, inked in bright colours that looked muted in the 60s typeset, was poking a little sword at a massive green dragon, with horns very reminiscent of Loki’s ridiculous helmet. As delighted as Morgan’s face was, Pepper’s expression slowly morphed into something heartbreakingly touched.

‘It’s Daddy!” Morgan smiled, pointing at the little Iron Man and Pepper swallowed, nodding, “Yeah, yeah it is.” Eager, Morgan opened the cover and more pages in cartoons flicked past, a mix of colour and black and white ink. Bucky stepped closer to see, as did Happy, and judging by Barnes’ expression, he was just as surprised.

“That looks like Uncle Bwuce-Hulk,” Morgan gasped, pointing at a series of images, Iron Man riding a big Hulk-like ogre, chasing the dragon, and then two very familiar figures out of their ‘suits’ mixing up potions, a grumpy Hulk drinking the potions. “It’s a story book about Daddy!” Morgan shrieked, nearly tearing a page as she quickly turned to a picture she had spotted. “See mommy, see!” she pointed at a mini-Tony hammering away at an anvil, the pieces of Iron Man armour scattered around. “I see, sweetheart.” Pepper’s voice was thick, and Sam carefully did not look at her.

Happy leant over and said, “Hey kiddo, go back two pages,” and Morgan happily complied, and giggled, “A rainbow! Daddy’s riding a rainbow!” A diminutive, and very not-fat Thor was towing an unimpressed Iron Man towards something, followed by two black ravens and a green frog. Later the ravens become a smiling Clint and Natasha, and the frog was Bruce, all sitting in Tony’s lab, eating his food while Tony waved his hands in mock-anger. The style of drawing was unusual, not the typical cartoon-style Sam was familiar with and he knew nothing about Cap's art to comment on it, but the drawings were beautiful in their simplicity, a few lines conveying far more emotion that one could imagine.

 Pepper paused the page turning on a two page spread of little Tony surrounded by Iron Man suits, all marching up and down the stairs, mopping the floor, a very accurate Pepper Potts glaring at him, her hair pinned back by a crown. “You’re a princess, Mommy!” Morgan laughed and then said, "Silly Daddy!" Everyone laughed a few pages later when Princess Potts saved Iron Man from a horde of Cena-taurs and Hydras, Tony’s face a picture of adoration and Pepper’s of annoyance as she fought off the horde.

Morgan stared for a very long time at a picture of Iron Man playing house with a little girl, a crown of flowers on his helmet. “It’s me,” she eventually said, and gently touched the image, her little fingers tracing the crown of pink flowers. Iron Man's face was obscured by the helmet of course, but the cartoon eyes radiated love for the little girl opposite him, who epitomised childish concentration as she poured the tea.

Abruptly, Morgan turned to the end of the book, several pages unseen, as if she suddenly needed to be away from that image, the truth of what she’d lost. But as the last page was revealed, Sam felt himself choke up at the final image, but couldn’t look away, wouldn't. Unlike the previous pages, the final page was in a realistic style Sam now recognised as Steve’s usual medium. Tony, etched in strong pencil lines, face alive with contented happiness as he sat next to his daughter and read her the book. The Morgan in the book was however not looking at the page, but was looking at her father, a wonder of love in her eyes, and Tony’s smile was bright, at peace and beautiful. Pepper stood at the door, watching them, her eyes shining. They were all in black and white, a pencil snapshot of a scene that would never happen again. Pepper was unable to keep the tears back and sniffed as she wiped her eyes, and Morgan looked up at her. “You ok, mommy?”

Gulping a little, Pepper nodded, “Yep, yep, it’s a nice picture, honey.” Morgan nodded, staring at the page again, little fingers still on her father’s face. “My bedroom isn’t like that,” she whispered, and Pepper gave her a hug. “I know hun. It’s a story remember?” Morgan sighed and then turned back to the other pages, a little subdued as she stared at images of Iron Man playing chess with Happy, a wood-chopping competition between him and a stylised Captain America and a panicked hunt for the Spider-child and little Morgan, who were giggling behind a tree.

Sam looked away, wiping his eyes. It must have taken Cap a long time to draw this, to colour it. The why was obvious, but it was still a little surprising. It was a side of Cap that Sam recognised as possible, just had not seen before.

Later, after the book had been read several times and Sam and Bucky had both identified themselves in the pictures, Morgan had retreated back upstairs, still clutching the book. On the porch, the time gone and a long road waiting, Pepper’s hug around Sam’s neck was very tight, and fierce. “Can you tell him ‘thank you’?” she whispered as she pulled back. Sam nodded, “Yes, definitely. Not too sure how we’ll get him the message but we will.” Bucky also got a long hug and a motherly pat on his face.

"You two stay safe, ok? And you are always welcome here. Don't… don't.." Pepper's voice thickened again but she fought the tears and smiled instead. "Don't be strangers. Please?"

Sam and Bucky nodded. "We won't. See you around, Happy."

Pepper and Happy stood on the porch while they walked towards their car, shadows gathering around the house as the afternoon sun dipped towards the horizon. "Did you know?" Sam asked and Bucky shrugged. "That he could draw or drew that?"

Sam shook his head, heart aching a little. "No. That he wasn't coming back."

"Oh." Bucky was quiet for a while. Sam had wanted to demand this answer days ago, but the old familiar spike of jealousy had stopped him. Now, listening to the tread of Barnes' boots, the hitch in his step, the hesitance in his voice, Sam knew the answer.

"Yeah, I did. He asked if I wanted to go with him."

And just like that, whatever lingering old jealousy died and Sam nodded, understanding. Two old friends, out of their time, out of place. He didn't ask Bucky why he chose to stay behind, to lose his friend, to embrace a world with a new Captain America. Instead, he clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Come on, I think Rhodey's making chili and invited Bruce over. Let's crash."

"Sure."

*mcu*marvel*mcu*marvel*mcu*

**Author's Note:**

> more chapters to follow as I process my emotions and get a grip on this ending.


End file.
